


Go Play a Video Game

by autoeuphoric (FreezingRayne)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 23:02:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3627582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreezingRayne/pseuds/autoeuphoric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ll just be here, having sex with you. Feel free to join in whenever.”</p><p>(Kenma can play video games through anything, apparently)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Play a Video Game

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [ouroboros](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ouroboros/pseuds/ouroboros) for the beta, and to [splashfree](http://archiveofourown.org/users/splashfree/pseuds/splashfree) for making me watch the volleyball anime. I'm a believer.

The hazy day slumps toward afternoon, baking down to the motionless humidity that sits on the edge of a storm. Inside, the light creeps over the floor and onto the bed, pooling hot on the tumbled wash of blankets. Kenma is curled in the widest band of sunlight, knees drawn up to his chest, eyes fastened to his PSP. His hair is a feathery mess. Kuroo knows from first-hand experience that it is as soft as it looks.

“Dude, didn’t you hear me knocking?”

The only part of Kenma that’s moving are his thumbs, and then his mouth when he says, “I knew it was unlocked.” He straightens his legs as Kuroo flops down on the bed, and Kuroo knows that’s the most invitation he’s going to get—that slight change in posture, opened instead of closed. He traces a finger across the sensitive arch of Kenma’s foot.

“One day you’re gonna get a creeper coming through that door.”

“There’s been a creeper coming through it for years.”

Kuroo leans down to kiss the soft pressure point beneath Kenma’s ankle. “Wow, dude. You shouldn’t talk about your mom like that.” He plants another kiss on the top of his foot. 

Eyebrows rise briefly up over the top of the PSP. “I didn’t know you had a foot fetish.”

“You do have pretty cute feet.” 

“If you start sucking on my toes, I’ll kick you.”

“Don’t worry.” Though if Kuroo was going to suck on anyone’s toes, they would probably be Kenma’s. And if he really wanted to do it, Kenma would let him.

Rolling up the bottoms of Kenma’s pajama pants, Kuroo kisses his leg, brushing his lips against the downy hairs, feeling the minute shift of tight calves. His skin is supple with heat. Kenma stays quiet, but the pattern of his breaths change, long and relaxed becoming humid and clipped. Kuroo rolls his pants up to just under the knee and digs his thumbs into the muscle of Kenma’s thigh. Kenma hisses, and the clicking stops. Kuroo thinks he’s got him, but then the tinny battle music starts up again.

“That a good game?”

Kenma looks down at Kuroo along the lazy line of his body, and Kuroo can sense the smirk hovering just out of sight. “It’s okay.”

 _So that’s how it’s gonna be_. Kuroo wouldn’t be captain if he wasn’t up for a challenge.

“Aren’t you hot in these?” he asks, snapping the waistband of the pajama pants. 

“Not really.” Kenma slides a few inches further down the bed, PSP held up above his head to keep it out of the widening band of sunlight.

“You’re gonna drop that on your face.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Setter reflexes?”

“Gamer reflexes.”

“Hmm.” Kuroo plants sucking kisses on Kenma’s stomach, wet tongue delineating a circle around his belly-button, tasting salt. He’s as fit as anyone else on the team, but his body shows muscle mostly in his back and shoulders—the kingdom of a setter. Kuroo’s fascination has never had much to do with Kenma’s body so much as how he uses it, motionless potential energy as he watches the ball come over the net, then slingshot movement, sending the rest of the team spinning around him, the spoke in the wheel that is Nekoma.

Kuroo eases Kenma’s pants down his hips, taking time with each new bit of skin revealed, the sharp lines of his hips, the bristly hairs that grow denser as he moves down. Kenma smells like sweat, but Kuroo has never let that stop him before. He licks along his hipbones and sucks at the tender skin at the crease of his thigh. Kenma’s cock is thickening, curved and dark. It’s small, just like the rest of him, and Kuroo had once gotten an elbow to the spleen for calling it cute.

 _No worries. My dick is big enough for both of us_. That elbow he’d gotten in the center of the chest.

“I’ll just be here, having sex with you. Feel free to join in whenever.”

Kenma’s grunt is noncommittal, but Kuroo has known Kenma for a long time, and he can recognize the flavors of his moods—when he wants to be left alone, and when he wants to be pushed.

He starts off with light, feathery touches of his lips, mouthing at the base of Kenma’s cock, licking a slow line up to the head. Over the clicking of the PSP buttons, Kenma makes a badly stifled noise. Kuroo’s chest glows warm, like he’s drunk down the light of the sunset. He doesn’t have a ton of blowjob experience outside of what he’s gotten with Kenma over the past few months, but he’s had a lifetime of getting to know his own dick. Llearning his way around Kenma’s has been like learning a new dialect, as opposed to the foreign language of girls’ bodies.

“ _Aahh_ -.” Kenma’s hips buck. He’s still playing his fucking game, but he’s drawn his arms in closer, like he doesn’t trust himself to hold it up in the air anymore. Kuroo grins against the soft skin of his thigh and goes back to work with teasing licks, soft and lingering. 

The curtains above the bed burst inward in a sudden startled dance as the wind rises, clouds momentarily obliterating the bars of sunlight on the bed. Kuroo thinks he can smell rain. It’ll be dark soon, and Kenma’s mother will be home; they’ll have to go back to just being best friends, hanging out and doing best friend things. But for now Kenma’s legs have begun to move restlessly, bending and unbending at the knee, ankles rolling, heels scudding across the mattress. A sharp whine builds up in his throat.

Kuroo’s lips are sticky. “You say something?”

Kenma grunts. “No.”

Broad licks, tiny flicks of his tongue against the sensitive spot on the head of his cock. Kenma’s chest trembles and Kuroo yanks his pants off the rest of the way, spreading his legs wider, rubbing his fingers across a warm stomach and thighs, just to feel the texture of his skin. He presses two knuckles below Kenma’s balls, and then a little further back, just pressure, the smallest threat of penetration, and that’s it.

Kenma keens and tosses his head, tangled ends of his hair sticking to the underside of his chin as the PSP slips onto his chest. His fingers anchor in Kuroo’s hair, and hold him still. With Kenma it’s always nothing, nothing, nothing, and then everything, all at once, all his focus dedicated to writhing against the bed, yanking at Kuroo’s hair, harsh breaths building to a shuddering crescendo that shakes his whole body.

Kuroo swallows, because there’s nowhere in here to spit that isn’t directly onto the futon or the floor. Kenma watches him with hazy, slitted eyes as he comes down, cheeks a scribbled pink. His teeth sink into his bottom lip when Kuroo gives his cock a few more lazy licks, his hips twisting. He makes a broken animal noise that sounds like pain, but he doesn’t tell Kuroo to stop, just gasps and jerks, the muscles jumping in his thighs. Kenma likes it when it’s a little too much, but Kuroo stops after a couple seconds, because he likes his hair where it is, i.e. on his head and not yanked out by thirsty setters.

“Got a little bit more interesting at the end, huh,” Kuroo pants, sitting back on his knees and wiping his mouth. “Kurro, one, electronic devices, zero.”

Kenma releases a shuddering breath and pokes the PSP across the sheet. The screen is dark and lines of white text are scrolling up. The credits are rolling.

Kuroo lets his arms go limp and collapses down onto his back. “Did you seriously just beat a video game while I was sucking you off?”

Kenma pushes a sweaty clump of hair out of his eyes. “Yeah.” He’s finally spurred to lazy motion, crawling down the bed to flop against Kuroo’s side. Kuroo nuzzles his chin against the top of his head. “Nerd.”

Kenma laughs, but he doesn’t argue.

**Author's Note:**

> Do yourself a favor and listen to "Video Games" by Lana del Rey while thinking about KuroKen. It's an experience. 
> 
> I'm autoeuphoric on tumblr!


End file.
